


dalliance

by miilkteas



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Assassin!AU, Assassin!Chanyeol, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 11:56:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10616424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miilkteas/pseuds/miilkteas
Summary: the target's name was byun baekhyun and he would be dead in several hours. [ assassin!chanyeol ]





	

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea what i was thinking while writing this. happy late #5yearswithexo!

_ The target’s name was Byun Baekhyun.  _

Chanyeol didn’t know much else than that—he was provided a brief profile and several photographs of the soon-to-be-dead Byun heir. He was young, rich, gorgeous (not unlike any other target the assassin had killed before.) When he had received the contract from his client, he did not question his motives—he never had. A job’s a job, and hey, it paid well.

Locate the target. Assassinate said target. Dispose of the body. Reach the exit point.

His methods were simple, and a lifetime of training had prepared him to make each kill cleaner than the last. Byun Baekhyun would die tonight. He would die at his hands, and he would die tonight.

It was not difficult to get into the masquerade party— _ bless those rich bastards _ , he laughed to himself. The Byuns typically hosted galas several times a year, and Chanyeol was certain that this would be the most memorable one yet. A simple waiter’s uniform was enough to duck past the haughty stares of the bouncers managing the guest list and every other employee there. No one would suspect that the lanky young man would be the one ending Baekhyun’s life.

Once he was inside, Chanyeol ducked into a bathroom, hastily changing into a suit and a mask that would be difficult to differentiate from the any other mask at the party. 

_ Keep it simple. _

It was a mantra that had been burned into his skull from the moment he could crawl. Simplicity reduced room for error, and complexity meant that silly things like emotions got involved. Emotions made a person, and Chanyeol was nothing more than a killing machine.

This assassination was a little too easy—even with a mask on, it took Chanyeol only a few minutes to pick Baekhyun out from the crowd of strangers. He had studied photos of him enough to be able to recognize him quickly. Contrary to his own, Baekhyun’s mask was flamboyant, incredibly flashy. Adorned with feathers and iridescent glitter, it practically was a beacon, much to the assassin’s delight. Even if he slinked away, Chanyeol would have no trouble honing in on his whereabouts. 

Moving towards Baekhyun, he could not help but admire how ethereal he looked—he would have recognized him anywhere. It would certainly be a kill he would remember for a long time. Far too often have his targets been ruined by constant alterations and surgeries. There was beauty in a clean kill, especially with a target as gorgeous as the Byun heir. 

Chanyeol typically liked using poison, but he was not opposed to other traditional methods. Poison would work well in this scenario—cyanide pills would kill him efficiently. There were other ways, of course, but he worked best when he was in his element (too many times had he experimented with different assassination methods, electrocuting a gang leader being one of them.)

Baekhyun was simply the life of the party, constantly joking with party guests and shaking hands with more people than really necessary. Mentally, the assassin swore—it would be difficult to get him away from so many people, but it was nothing some rat poison or a little distraction couldn’t fix. People were not an issue when one had as much experience as Chanyeol. The assassin was notorious for clean kills—this would not be any different. 

“I don’t think we’ve met yet,” a silky voice called out, causing Chanyeol to snap out of his thoughts. A mistake like that could have possibly cost him his life, but Fate apparently had other plans for him and allowed him to live despite the fact that he was not paying attention to his immediate surroundings.

Perhaps his blunder was actually a gift from the heavens: a grinning Baekhyun with his hand outstretched in greeting. The ends of Chanyeol’s lips tugged into a wry but what he thought was a genuine smile, taking the smaller man’s hand in his own. 

The blood pulsing through those veins of his would not be doing so in a few short hours.

“Choi Minsung,” he offered, using a false alias that he had used once or twice before—to Chanyeol, names and personalities were nothing more than clothes to be switched in and out. If aliases were clothes, he’d have a bigger closet than Barbie did. “And I believe you are the Byun heir?”

“The one and only,” he agreed with a blinding smile. “Unless you were looking for my brother, you’re stuck with me for now.”

Despite having the kill practically be handed to him, Chanyeol couldn’t help but wonder if being stuck with such an energetic person was a curse or a blessing. But for the sake of the contract, he replied back flirtily. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He cackled almost sinisterly, nearly bent over from laughter. They were beginning to draw several looks due to his laughing, so he had to move fast. All he needed was a few minutes alone with him. “You’re a funny one; I like you already.”

_ Keep it simple. _

But who said he couldn’t fraternize with the target before he killed him? He would forget about their conversation soon after his death, and he would be on his next assassination contract within hours. Chanyeol was willing to have some fun to keep his job interesting. 

“Would you like to go somewhere more private?” Baekhyun offered slyly, falling right for Chanyeol’s trap. The fool was walking right to his death, and he didn’t even know it. Chanyeol was almost disappointed that it was going too well for him, although he couldn’t complain after thinking about the hefty cash reward waiting for him at the bank.

He nodded curtly. “Ladies first.”

Allowing Baekhyun to take the lead, Chanyeol discreetly took two drinks from a passing waiter, taking great care to select something cyanide could blend in with flawlessly. (Not like Baekhyun would ever notice anyways. He probably couldn’t tell a grenade from a tennis ball.)

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Minsung?” Baekhyun could barely restrain his giggles, but he managed to waltz out the side door to a small garden before he succumbed to laughter. After he had calmed himself down, he let out a sarcastic, “Well that wasn’t very ladylike of me.”

Certainly odd behavior of a young man raised like a prince—at least he was funny and would be good company. It was almost sad that good company never lasted long. “Not ladylike at all, but I’ll take whatever I can get.”

Again, the young man laughed manically, much to the assassin’s amusement. Chanyeol was well aware of his hidden sadistic streak, but he restrained himself—he needed to just kill the guy and get out. Other people did the torturing and slow deaths. He was nothing but a mere assassin that disposed of people that needed to die.

“You’re a real piece of work,” Baekhyun snickered, turning his back to Chanyeol to admire the landscaping done on the garden. He seized the opportunity, dissolving the cyanide pill into the drink meant for Baekhyun. While he had to be hasty about it, he wasn’t at all worried.

Rich people really liked to outdo themselves—the Byuns were no exception with this party, as they had provided him nearly all the tools to kill their heir (Chanyeol had heard rumors of the older Byun brother being illegitimate.) 

When he turned back around, Chanyeol gestured to the poisoned drink. “For you.”

“You’re too kind,” he replied sweetly, picking up the glass daintily. Bringing it to his lips, he set it down after a few moments, much to Chanyeol’s delight. His eyes were practically gleaming, and he was grateful that the mask could hide his eyes fairly well. The entire night had gone too well in his favor.

He sipped his own drink extremely slowly, although he wasn’t sure that downing the entire thing was a good idea—an assassin needed a clear head, not a booze-muddled one. “Just doing what any other gentleman would do.”

Just keep him talking, and no one would ever have to know that Baekhyun died at his hands. His internal clock must surely be ticking down. It took only mere minutes to kill someone with poison.

What he said next nearly stopped Chanyeol’s heart. The tables turned on him just as quickly as he got the upper hand. “Now, who are you really?”

“Choi Minsung, remember?” he replied smoothly. Chanyeol doubted that he did anything to compromise his cover. All he needed to do was ooze more charisma. “Or has the booze gotten to you already?”

His eyes narrowed all too suspiciously, evidently on guard. All previous laughter and jest had disappeared in an instant. “I know every guest. I wasn’t lying when I said we haven’t met yet.”

“Perhaps you should check that guest list again?”

While Baekhyun was distracted, Chanyeol could make his escape to somewhere slightly more advantageous for himself. He was a trained assassin, with a mind that could be outsmarted by few. 

One of those few happened to be Byun Baekhyun. 

The shorter of the two took off his mask, cocking his head to the side not unlike a puppy. “I knew something was up from the moment I turned my back on you. I’d like to know your real name.”

Unmasked, he looked like an angel from heaven. His eyes were absolutely sinful, and his artfully tousled hair did wonders on his face. Soon enough, those eyes would be dull and glazed over; his hair would be covered in his own blood from where he hit himself on the ground. 

“You’re not making sense right now,” he insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder before it was swatted away rather defensively. “Are you feeling okay?”

“You were quiet, but not quiet enough with whatever you put in my drink. Can’t you tell when someone fakes drinking something?” Baekhyun was dead serious. This was no bluff. 

He had spent enough time training himself on how to detect lies—what he was saying was the truth and nothing but the truth. “Well you caught me there,  _ Byun Baekhyun _ .”

His name was practically spat out, as if it were a bad taste in his mouth.   


“You’re too pretty to be a hitman,” the shorter cooed, wrapping his arms around Chanyeol’s. He undid the mask, tossing it to the side to get a good look at his face. Baekhyun must have liked what he saw, because he smiled softly and subconsciously licked his lips. 

Stiffly, he replied. “I prefer the term  _ assassin _ .”   


Chanyeol knew the protocol: Keep it simple. Don’t let emotions interfere. Mess with him all you want, but he still had to eventually  _ die _ .

“Do you?”

_ Byun Baekhyun had to die. _

The thought of his impending death was fresh in his mind as their lips met, and their foreheads pressed together. Chanyeol had done his fair share of kissing pretty young heiresses before stabbing a knife through their chests, but none of them kissed like Baekhyun did.

Twice, he tried to pull away, but the heir’s mouth was irresistible and Chanyeol certainly couldn’t deny himself of that. It was the most imperfect of kisses, swayed by the party atmosphere and too much flirting with danger. So imperfectly perfect it was that he was hungry for more.

There were no fireworks or butterflies that customarily came with a first kiss—they were desperate for each other, as if they were still teenage, hormonal messes trying to pass off as human beings.

Chanyeol had a knife in his shoe. With a simple kick, Baekhyun would be on the floor, a steel dagger embedded into his chest and left to die.

The plan was simple, and that plan would kill Baekhyun.

However his kisses were so incredibly gentle, but at the same time demanded so much out of him. That pretty little mouth of his had probably kissed more people than he could have cared to remember. 

He refused to throw away a lifetime’s worth of training for a few cheap kisses, and Chanyeol knocked the young man off his feet—quite literally. In an instant, the knife was hovering over Baekhyun’s chest, at the exact spot where his heart was. He was no stranger to death. Killing was an instinct, a lifestyle.

“To answer your question, I do prefer calling myself an assassin.”

Baekhyun knew there was no use trying to throw Chanyeol off of him—for one, he had zero arm strength and he wasn’t too sure on how fast he could run while wearing a stuffy suit. Death was inevitable, he supposed, but even in the face of it, he couldn’t help but be an utter fool. “Again, you’re  _ way _ too pretty to be a hitman, or whatever you call yourself.”

He’s still smiling when the dagger pierced his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> originally, baekhyun was going to live after successfully seducing chanyeol with his hot self, but i've played too much assassin's creed to let him live. oops :)


End file.
